


Walk on Water or Drown

by ihadthisdream0nce



Series: WOWOD Verse [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Swimmer!Harry, imagine louis doggy-paddling, louis is scared of water, obscene tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:25:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihadthisdream0nce/pseuds/ihadthisdream0nce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(You got here just in time to let me know I was worth saving) </p><p>Everything is different, yet so eerily comfortable and the same. There's silence for a moment, and everything is still like the world is holding it's breath and waiting for the right moment to exhale. And then Louis is choking and gasping and his eyes are so wide and innocent and blue like deep pools of azure sea water in the Caribbean and Harry is chanting his name, whispering it softly into the air like a prayer. He rolls Louis on to his side and helps him clear the water from his lungs and he doesn't stop saying his name: Louis, Louis, Louis. </p><p>He's pulling the older lad's body to his own, sitting him up and wrapping his arms around his shivering frame and rubbing reassuring circles on his back with his thumb and he still doesn't stop because all he can think about is: Louis, Louis, Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

All was dark. The only source of light coming from the fog light on the upper deck. The night was silent, save for the sound of the wind hitting the folded sails and the light tapping of the waves as they made contact with the side of the boat. The sea was calm, waves no larger than four or five inches. A thick blanket of fog surrounded the small vessel, rendering it invisible in the dark night.

 

On the upper deck, two adults, a male and a female, moved around. Taking bearings as best as they could and checking the bilges, they worked as a team to finish their deck duties before returning to the main salon for a well needed rest.. In the fo'c'sle, a small child no older than six slept soundly, lulled into a blissful sleep by the rhythmic rocking of the ship.

 

It was a routine trip, a family of three taking a small schooner out overnight, just to make sure the ship was in working order for their customers. All of which, as it turned out, worked just fine.

 

Sometimes, things didn't always go according to plan.

 

What the family of three hadn't planned on was there being an extremely low visibility that evening. They hadn't planned on forgetting to check the connection between the fog light and it's power source before retiring for the evening. They hadn't taken into account the fact that maybe they weren't alone on the water that night. They hadn't thought that their son would wander up on deck in the middle of the night looking for his parents, only to become confused as to why they weren't there.

 

They hadn't counted on the fog light shorting out because of the bad connection.

 

They hadn't planned for there to be a drunken man driving a speedboat at four in the morning.

 

They hadn't planned for it to hit the small schooner.

 

They hadn't planned for it to sink.

 

He hadn't planned to be the only one to live.

 

________________________

 

As the two vessels collided, Louis was thrown from the deck and into the cold water of the Irish Sea. He hadn't been wearing his harness at the time, he had been too tired to remember to put it on.

 

His head went under first, followed by the rest of his body. In all of the confusion, he found himself unable to remember which way was up or down. He just kept kicking his legs and moving his arms, clawing his way towards what he thought was the surface. He could feel the water's dark tendrils reaching out, wrapping around his ankles and pulling him deeper and deeper. He fought against them, thrashing wildly in the ice cold sea, completely unaware of anything other than his need to reach the surface. To survive.

 

With a swift kick, the water released him and he was propelled towards the surface. He gasped for air, coughing up the water that had previously occupied his constrained lungs. Finding himself alone, Louis looked around frantically for his parents. The fog had cleared, the ship he had previously been standing on nowhere to be found. Using what little strength he had, the young boy swam towards where he had last seen the schooner, sifting through the wreckage in hopes of finding his parents.

 

"Mom?" He shouted, clinging helplessly to what had been the main mast as it floated in the open sea. "Dad?" Louis cried, catching sight of one of his father's sleep shirts drifting with the current.

 

The young boy looked up into the star filled sky and realized that he was alone, completely and utterly alone.

 

Louis awoke with a start, sweat coating his body and soaking his sheets. He hadn't had a nightmare in a few months, but it seemed to him as if they were never going to stop for long. Wiping his clammy hands on his sleep shorts, he climbed out of bed and walked into the kitchen of his grandmother's small flat. He pulled out a box of cereal from the cupboard along with a bowl, setting it down on the counter and filling it with the delicious breakfast food.

 

The day had started off normally enough, a bowl of cereal for breakfast, a quick kiss to his grandmother before he was off on his way to school. Ten year old Louis wasn't prepared to walk into gym class that afternoon and be told that he would be swimming for the rest of the term instead of playing football with the other half of the class.

 

"Excuse me sir," Louis piped up, standing awkwardly in his school issued speedo. He glanced between the teacher and the large swimming pool, frightened. "I can't swim."

 

"Sure you can, Tomlinson!" the teacher smiled, patting the young boy on the back. "I've known you since you were a toddler, boy! I know for sure you can swim." The older man looked down at Louis, who fidgeted under his gaze. "You can't have forgotten, have you?" he asked, completely confused as to why he refused to get into the water.

 

"It's not that I've forgotten, sir…" Louis trailed off, feeling completely out of place.

 

"It's because the wimp is afraid of water, sir!" One of the other kids called from across the room. Louis felt like he was going to cry.

 

The teacher looked at him one last time, deliberating whether or not to call the Dean about letting the boy out of the class. With a warm smile, he turned around, pulling his cellular out of his pocket and dialing the Dean's number.

 

As the teacher's back was turned, the boy who had shouted earlier and his friends gathered around Louis, confining him in the middle of their small circle.

 

"Afraid of water? That's so dumb." the biggest of the boys laughed, causing Louis to cower in fear. They began to close in on him, pressing him closer and closer to the edge of the pool. "Do you not shower, then?" He taunted, watching with glee as they neared the large body of water. "That's disgusting!" He cried, the rest of the boys in the circle laughing along with him.

 

"Maybe we should give you a wash then?" The boy who stood to the left of the "ring leader" spoke up, stretching his arms out towards Louis and casting his small body into the water.

 

As soon as he hit the water, Louis was catapulted back into the dark night, the carnage of his parent's schooner surrounding him as he cried out for help. He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel, couldn't move. He was consumed by the memories of that night, the feel of the icy Irish water on his skin, pricking like needles, the sound of his desperate pleas for his parents, the way he called their names until he could no longer speak.

 

A young boy who had watched the scuffle from the corner of the room rushed towards the group as he heard the sound of splashing. Seeing Louis' body slowly sinking to the bottom of the pool, he jumped in. He wrapped his arms around his limp form in a lifesaver's carry and swam towards the wall. The teacher, finally cluing in on what was happening, sprinted to the edge of the pool and helped the young boy get Louis out of the pool. He too, swung his lithe frame from the water and climbed out.

 

"Sir, he's not breathing….I'm CPR certified." the wet boy told the teacher, who nodded at him to go ahead. He was still in shock. Louis really wasn't kidding when he said that he couldn't swim. The teacher eyed the boys who were responsible, glaring at them as they huddled guiltily in the corner.

 

The young boy set to work, positioning himself over Louis' body so that he could comfortably administer the correct amount of compressions per minute. He glanced at his watch, keeping time before he stopped, pinching Louis' nose closed and tilting his chin up. After taking a deep breath, he covered the smaller boy's mouth with his own, breathing life into him.

 

Louis jolted into consciousness, turning on his side and coughing up water. The teacher rushed to his aid, sitting him up and making sure he was okay. He just nodded dumbly, too shocked to really reply. In the midst of all of the commotion, the young boy had stood up and gotten Louis a towel. He wrapped it around his shaking shoulders and squeezed lightly with his hands. Green eyes met blue.

 

"Thanks." he whispered.  The green eyed boy just smiled, turning back to the locker room and walking away.


	2. Chapter 2

Six years later:

 

Louis walked hesitantly down the crowded hallway towards the Dean's office to discuss his schedule. They knew his predicament, why had they scheduled him for gym?

 

Upon arriving at the ominous cherry coloured door, Louis knocked politely, praying that Dean Rivers wasn't busy. A jovial voice sounded from behind the door, and Louis took it as a sign to proceed.

 

He eased the heavy door open, surprised by what he found on the other side. He had never been in the Dean's office before, the result of many years of keeping his head down and staying out of both academic and social trouble. He marveled at the openness of the small room, finding it not at all as oppressive as he thought it would be. The sea foam green walls, coupled with the immense amount of light streaming through the large windows made the atmosphere calm and inviting.

 

The Dean sat behind his desk, quietly typing away on his computer. When he noticed Louis' presence, he looked up, greeting the boy with a genuine smile.

 

"Hello, Mr. Tomlinson!" Mr. Rivers spoke boisterously, his voice loud and full of cheer. "How can I be of service to you today? Please, have a seat and make yourself at home."

 

Louis smiled, pleased by the kindness of the Dean. Maybe there was a chance of him getting his schedule changed after all. The young boy humored Mr. Rivers' request and sat down in one of the matching green chairs that had been strategically placed in front of the large cherry wood desk.

 

"Good morning, Sir." Louis started, not wanting to come off as a rambunctious teenager. His mother had always taught him to respect his elders, so he did just that. "It seems that they've scheduled me for a gym class, Sir. The problem is I've already taken gym, and I need the space in my schedule to study for my A-levels." He explained, hoping that the Dean would understand his plea.

 

"Let me see your schedule, son." Mr. Rivers said, outstretching his hand towards Louis. The Doncaster lad handed it over dutifully, and the Dean nodded in thanks.

 

Louis watched as the Dean looked between his computer screen and the schedule, pausing occasionally to type something. The minutes ticked by almost silently, leaving Louis with nothing else to do but worry over whether or not the Dean would let him drop the class.

 

Finally, Mr. Rivers looked up from his computer, relaxing into his plush leather desk chair.

 

"Well, it looks like there's no mistake in the system." Mr. Rivers spoke calmly, hoping to ease the blow of what he was about to tell his already troubled student. "I'm sorry, but there's absolutely no way you can drop gym class. It looks like you didn't complete the require coursework and you need to make up the credit, otherwise you can't graduate."

 

The words rang in Louis' ears, can't graduate? He needed to graduate, if not for himself, for his grandmother, or his parents. How could a gym credit possibly prevent him from graduating?

 

"But Sir, can't I take strength and fitness training instead?" because that class doesn't have a swimming component, he added silently, watching in horror as the Dean shook his head.

 

"I'm sorry, Louis, but the basic gym credit is the prerequisite course for all of the other athletic classes we offer here."

 

"Does basic gym still have the swimming component?" Louis inquired, hoping, praying, that they had dropped it from the curriculum.

 

"As far as I'm aware, students start swimming second semester." Dean Rivers replied. After watching Louis' face pale considerably, he added: "You can swim, correct? Its not going to be a problem, is it?"

 

"Well Sir, I can swim... its just that..." he paused briefly, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "After my parents died, you remember what happened?" He looked towards the Dean, who nodded at him to continue. "Well, since then, I haven't been able to step anywhere close to water without having a panic attack." Hazy memories of being taunted by peers, laughed at, and pushed into a pool flitted through Louis' mind, but not recognising them, he shook them away.

 

"Well, have you tried talking to the counselor?" The Dean asked, wondering if that would help the boy get over his traumatic experiences.

 

"Yeah, I went to one for three years after the accident. They tried everything they could, but nothing ever stuck." Louis explained.

 

The Dean, who prided himself on being quite adept at reading people,  the troubled boy that sat before him. The lad was slightly shorter than other boys his age and was rather fit, he held himself well and wise quite handsome. His killer blue eyes and feathery light brown hair coupled with a bright smile were bound to make him noticeable. Why did such bad things have to happen to such seemingly good people?

 

The older man, struck by a thought of sheer genius, looked once more at Louis' schedule. He proceeded to pull up the schedules of all of the other students that shared one of his two free periods. Smiling to himself when he saw that his hunch was correct, Dean Rivers picked up his phone and called the lower sixth form history teacher, asking her to send Harry Styles to his office immediately.

____________

 

Harry Styles, co-captain of the varsity swim team, walked down the hallway with a skip in his step. He wasn't scared of Dean Rivers. no, not at all. The man was about as scary as a capybara. He knew that he wasn't in trouble, for it was only the first say of school, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was being summoned.

 

When he reached the cherry wood door that was normally associated with reprimands and phone calls to parents, the curly haired boy forwent the polite custom of knocking and burst energetically into the bright room. Smiling happily at the Dean, Harry greeted him cordially.

 

"Hello, Mr. Rivers!" He said as he sat down, getting himself comfortable for their little chat. "Why do you need me today? Want me to show the captain of the JV swim team the ropes?" He asked, skipping straight to the point. The Dean looked at Harry with a confused, yet mildly amused smile.

 

"Well Mr. Styles, you'll be overjoyed to find that you're sitting on the reason why I called you into my office." Dean Rivers laughed, waiting for Harry to realise that he was, indeed, sitting on Louis.

 

"What?" Harry replied dumbly, before feeling his chair wiggling beneath him.

 

"I'd hate to make you move, but I kind of can't breathe." Louis whimpered, struggling to move Harry's weight off of him.

 

Harry's face lit up with understanding. Finally, he sprung from the chair, immediately turning around and beginning to apologize profusely. The Dean stopped him.

 

"Both Louis and I know you are quite sorry, Mr. Styles. I'm sure that you'll be more than willing to make it up to him by teaching him how to swim during your sixth block free period?" Dean Rivers interjected, stunning both boys into silence.

 

"No objections from either party, then? Good. Harry, you'll tutor Louis during sixth block. By the way, Mr. Tomlinson, You'll be needing these." The Dean opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of navy school issue speedos and tossed them onto Louis' lap. "You two are free to return to class. I'll email your teachers and tell them where you were."

 

And with that being said, Louis knew that the year ahead wasn't going to be easy.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Today is the day, Louis thought to himself as he rolled out of bed, covers falling haphazardly on the hardwood floor of his room.

 

Today is the day Harry Styles teaches me to swim. The older boy's mind was a mess of jumbled emotions, thoughts running wild. Would he drown in the pool? Would Harry get him comfortable in the water again? Could he really get over this?

 

Louis walked into the kitchen silently, not wanting to wake up his grandmother. He boiled some water for a cup of tea and placed the tea bag in a cup so it could brew while he changed. Sifting through a pile of seemingly clean clothes, Louis pulled out a navy and white striped shirt and a pair of tan trousers; he planned on wearing simple clothes that wouldn't wrinkle easily, seeing as he'd be changing half way through the day anyway.

 

After dressing himself, he took his towel and school issued speedo and stuck them in his gym bag along with a bar of soap and some Lynx spray. He didn't want to smell like pool all day. Picking up his things, Louis walked back to the kitchen and grabbed his tea, putting in sugar and cream to taste. He gulped it down quickly before putting the cup in the sink and rushing out the door to catch the tram to school.

________

 

"Listen, Louis! You'll be fine. Seriously, it's  not like you can't swim, you just need to get reacquainted with water." Louis' best friend Niall whispered  so that their chemistry professor wouldn't hear them. Louis just stared at the front of the room, pretending that he was paying attention to the lecture when in reality, he was freaking out.

 

"I'm going to die, Niall. What if Harry thinks that I'm a complete wimp because I'm scared of water?" The older boy thought out loud, eyes still trained on the instructor.

 

"You're not a wimp, Lou. You went through a traumatic experience, its normal to come away with some type of baggage. I'm sure Harry won't judge you at all." the Irish lad comforted, reaching a hand out and rubbing Louis' shoulder.

 

"Mr. Horan, Mr. Tomlinson, do you have something you would like to share with the class? Are my lectures on stoichiometry not 'cool' enough for you?" Mr. Borque, their chemistry professor, asked. Niall blushed in embarrassment as Louis just looked on, watching the seconds tick by until the bell finally sounded. With a huff, the teacher turned back around and finished his lecture without any further interruptions.

 

___________

 

Harry Styles had been floored, to say the least, when he found out that he would be "tutoring" Louis Tomlinson in swimming. He knew what had happened to the boy's parents, for his mother had served on the PTA board with Jay Tomlinson. He remembered him from gym class all those years ago, all pale and awkward in his small speedo. He hated the way that the older boys in their class had bullied him, pushed him into the pool. It was just downright mean.

 

He's to beautiful to be bullied, Harry thought to himself, mind consumed with the idea of Louis' existence. How could anyone want to hurt him? He seems to nice… Not to mention any bruises on his perfect face would be like defacing a work of art… Harry stopped, shaking the love struck thoughts from his head before walking in the general direction on the chemistry lab. He was on his way to pick Louis up for their sixth hour "tutoring" lesson.

 

The bell rang just as Harry was approaching the door, swarms of students suddenly filling the once empty hallway. The Cheshire boy caught sight of a pair of sparkling blue eyes in the distance. Recognizing the owner as Louis, he began his pursuit, legging it down the hall as fast as he could to catch up. He wouldn't admit it, but when he finally caught up, he was out of breath. Harry hadn't known Louis could move so fast.

 

"Hey!" Harry said, smiling at the slightly shorter boy as they walked towards the pool. "Are you ready for our first lesson?" The curly haired boy was in a good mood, he got to spend time with his crush of three years. He could learn about him, find out his favourite things, his hobbies. They'd build trust, and maybe it'd evolve into a friendship. If he was lucky, maybe something more.

 

"Hello, Harry." Louis answered, maneuvering himself through the crowd with ease. Harry could hear the unease in the older boy's voice, the slight quiver of nervousness which Louis thought was carefully concealed. Harry could read Louis like an open book with large print, but he didn't say anything. He just smiled and grabbed the Doncaster lad's hand, tugging him into the pool hall.

 

"You can go and get changed in the locker room, I'll get things ready out here." Harry told Louis, pointing him in the direction of the boys' locker room. Louis nodded in agreement, turning and walking away. The younger boy sighed forlornly as he watched Louis swagger towards the door, hips sashaying from left to right, ass bouncing lightly with every step. He could feel his mouth watering. It'll be back out here in a speedo in a minute, Styles. Get yourself under control. His conscience scolded him, pushing him to jump into action. He knew Louis knew how to swim, the boy was just afraid of the water. He needed a plan.

 

As Harry began to strip out of his clothes, tossing them on top of his bag, he conjured up a "lesson plan" for the day. He didn't expect Louis to swan dive directly into the pool, but he wanted at least a tiny bit of progress to be made today. Maybe he'd start them off in the Kiddie pool. The curly haired boy shook his head. No, that'd make him feel like a child, he thought, going back to the drawing board once more. What if I just try and get him to stick his feet in today? Maybe sit on the edge and hang his legs over the side… But Harry's train of thought was interrupted by a cough. The younger boy looked over to find Louis, clad only in his school issue speedo, standing right next to him, blatantly checking him out. Harry looked down self-consciously, making sure that he was properly tucked in to his own speedo. He blushed.

 

"You ready?" He asked, trying in vain to cover up the fact he was embarrassed. He knew he had nothing to be worried about, years of swim team had toned his body to perfection, but this was Louis Tomlinson.

 

"No, but it seems as if I have no choice." Louis replied stoically, arms crossed over his chest as if wrapping himself in his own hug. The blue eyed boy scooted himself away from the edge of the pool involuntarily, Harry smiled comfortingly.

 

"Well, you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. But I'm afraid we're on a bit of a time constraint.. So let's get started." The curly haired boy grabbed Louis' hand, reveling in the contact only for a moment before tugging him towards the stairs. Harry left Louis on the edge of the pool, motioning at him to stay there. Turning towards the chlorinated water, Harry stepped in, walking down the stairs until his lower half was fully submerged.

 

"Its okay. I'm not going to make you get in. I just wanted you to see that its not going to eat me. It's okay. Do you want to try sitting on the edge, maybe putting your feet in the pool?" Harry asked, walking back to where Louis was standing on the side of the pool.

 

"Umm… Okay." Louis agreed, although he was still  not entirely sure about it. "What if I fall in or have a panic attack?" He worried aloud as he sat down.

 

"Then I'll be here to catch you. I'm CPR, AED, and first aid certified. I lifeguard at the local Y during the summer. You can trust me." Harry reasoned, placing his hands on Louis' folded legs and urging him to place them in the water. "It'll be okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, Lou." the younger boy whispered, looking up into Louis' blue eyes with a smile.

 

Louis, still unsure, unfolded his legs from his sitting position and moved to place them over the edge. He missed the water, he honestly did, but he had seen what it could do. He'd seen how powerful it was, how it could take away a life, two, in a single moment. Now, the water looked harmless to him. As Harry floated around, majestically gliding as if swimming through air, Louis couldn't help but yearn for the wet touch of the molecules on his skin. He needed to get better, he needed to swim again, he needed the water, and Harry would help. The older boy locked eyes with Harry as he placed the tip of his foot against the glossy surface. Harry's hand suddenly shot out, fingers lacing in between his own. Louis smiled, squeezing the curly haired boy's hand for support.

 

Louis gasped as his foot submerged in the cool liquid. His mind flooded with memories, but he held them at bay, thoughts of Harry and making him proud overpowering his want to run. He closed his eyes, scrunching his eyelids together tightly so that he could concentrate. He didn't know what possessed him to want to make Harry proud, but he didn't really care at this point. The feel of the water on his skin was terrifying, yet it felt like home. When Louis opened his eyes, both of his legs were dangling in the water, submerged up to the knee. He caught sight of Harry, who was smiling happily. His bright green eyes filled with admiration. Louis smiled back, wondering why those eyes looked so familiar.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Louis felt better.

 

Louis felt better than he had in a long time. Even though he was still plagued by the traumatic nightmares, the blue eyed boy succeeded in sleeping peacefully for the first time. His mind had focused on the events of the afternoon, rather than the accident.

 

Curly brown hair, vibrant green eyes, and a cheeky smile had filled Louis' mind. The thoughts consumed him, rendering him incapable of focusing on anything at all. He neglected his homework, finding his mind wandering to Harry instead of staying on topic with his chemistry lab report that was due the following day.

 

Louis didn't know why Harry was so interesting to him. He didn't understand what the green eyed boy had that made him so special. He was an ordinary boy, trying to study for his A-levels just like every other lower sixth form student. So, he may been extremely kind. So, he might co-captain of the swim team. So, he might be a tad more handsome than the average lad. So, what? That didn't explain why Louis was so obsessed.

 

Obsessed? Louis thought to himself as he walked to English Literature class; he was sure that he wouldn't take it as far as saying he was obsessed with the younger boy… maybe infatuated was a better word.

 

The Doncaster lad skipped happily thought the hall, excited for his next swim lesson. He never really thought he would be able to step near the water again after what had happened, but for some reason the mysterious Harry Styles had proven him wrong. Maybe he would swim again. In reality, he had to… or he wouldn't graduate. But, what was the harm in letting the boy dream?

 

Harry, on the other end of the hall, was having similar thoughts about Louis. He, having harboured a crush on the older boy for quite a while, had picked up in all of the little quirks that made him so special. The way he'd flick his hair out of his face, rather than reaching up to move it. The way that he scrunched his nose up adorably when he was concentrating or tap his chin with the eraser of his pencil when he was bored in class. Harry admired Louis for his loyalty to his friend Niall, his quick wit and headstrong attitude, and the way that the older boy constantly wore his heart on his sleeve. He regarded Louis as a role model, wanting to be just like him; but at the same time, he loved the fact that Louis was unique.

 

Harry had fallen even harder for Louis the day before. He had watched him blossom as he took his first steps towards becoming comfortable in the water again. And best of all, it was Harry who had been there to witness it. Not Louis' friend, not his Grandmother; Harry. He had been the one to hold onto him as he cautiously slipped his dainty feet into the water. He had been the one to comfort Louis when started to freak out.

 

The curly haired boy finally reached the door of his classroom right as the teacher was closing it. With a quick smile to Mrs. Foster, he took his seat. He was surprised to find that the only open seat was next to Louis, but he found himself not caring much. Harry wanted to become friends with the older boy, now was his chance. As he took out a piece of paper and copied the date on the board in the top right hand corner, preparing himself to take extensive notes, he remembered that he had to tutor one of the junior varsity swim team members during his sixth period class and was unable to make it to their swim session.

 

Quickly, he pulled out another piece of paper and began to write a long explanation and apology to Louis.

 

_Dear Louis,_

_I can't go to the pool with you because I promised my coach that I'd tutor one of the underclassmen on the junior team… I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise. I'll even bring you lunch. What do you like to eat? Any allergies? Favourite ice cream flavour? Okay, so maybe my apology turned into a desperate plea to learn more about you.. Tactful of me, no?_

_I'm sorry! - Harry_

 

The blue eyed boy looked up from his notes as a small origami frog landed in front of him. He smiled, picking the small piece of paper and examining it closely. Written in cursive neatly upon the paper animal's back was his name. Louis smiled, opening the note with great care. Once he had unfolded it so that he could reconstruct the small figure again, Louis read. He frowned at first, but the sad expression slowly morphed into an amused grin as he scanned the note.

 

Louis was happy. Harry had cared enough to tell him that they wouldn't be able to have their swim lesson. He had even explained and promised to make it up to him. No one had ever done that for him before, excluding Niall. They had been friends for ages, so he didn't really count.  Pulling out a piece of spare notebook paper, Louis scribbled a reply before folding it into an origami fish and tossing it back to Harry.

 

The curly haired boy caught the majestic paper fish as it sailed through the air, cupping his hands so that it landed perfectly unscathed in his palms. Harry didn't want to ruin the small creation. He looked to Louis for advice, who nodded at him to tear into the note. With a hesitant smile, the younger boy complied, reading the note quietly.

 

_Haz,_

_Tactful, yes. It's fine that you're busy… and its really sweet of you to do that for an underclassman. I understand you have prior obligations that come before teaching me to swim again._

_I'd love for you to make it up to me (however you see fit is completely fine with me). I like carrots, and I don't think I have any allergies..  My favourite ice cream flavour is cookie dough or birthday cake… I honestly can't choose._

_It's okay - Lou_

 

Harry could have jumped up on top of his desk and danced, he was so happy. Louis was willing to let him repent for not being able to make their session together… and it seemed as if they were becoming friends. The green eyed boy looked over to where Louis sat, smirking to himself knowingly as he copied the notes.


	5. Chapter 5

It took Harry five hours, two bags of flour, six cans of walnuts, and eight small packages of raisins to get it right. The Cheshire lad didn't even want to look at another carrot again, let alone a block of cream cheese. Who knew baking could be so difficult?

 

His mother had screamed when she saw the state of the kitchen; but Harry was quick to pacify her, claiming that he would clean it up while his monstrous creation was baking in the oven. When the timer had dinged and each of the counters were spotless, Harry hesitantly pulled the small five inch square pan out of the oven, letting the sweet aroma of freshly baked cake fill the air. While he waited for it to cool, he worked on his homework. By the end of the evening, the curly haired boy had finished both his homework and his masterpiece.

 

A home made carrot cake was the perfect way to make it up to Louis.

 

________

 

"Okay Louis!" Harry smiled, placing his backpack and a small cardboard box on the bleacher as he stripped from his school clothing. "I've some incentive for you today." The older boy looked at him curiously.

 

"What do you mean, incentive? Incentive for what?!" Louis was confused, what was Harry planning?

 

"I want you to sit on the steps today." The curly haired boy smiled triumphantly, tossing his pants and shirt on top of his backpack and picking up the cardboard box. "If you can, then I'll let you have the extremely delicious treat that is sitting comfortably within these cardboard walls." Harry wasn't going to tell Louis that even if he couldn't sit on the step, he was still going to get the cake. He just wanted to see what happened.

 

"This is bribery." The feather-y haired boy replied in meek protest, already getting up from his seat on the bleachers and walking towards the stairs to the pool.

 

"You'll be fine, don't you worry. I'll be right here!" The green eyed boy called, hopping into the pool with a massive splash and swimming towards the shallow end.

 

"But.. What if I freak out?" Louis half-whispered, stepping down onto the first step so that only the tops of his feet were submerged within the clear liquid. "Haz, I don't think I can do this."

 

"You can, it'll be okay. I'm going to be right here, love. Everything is fine." The younger boy climbed from the water, positioning himself so that he was standing next to Louis, his hand moving to hold the other boy's. "Ready?" He asked, looking to Louis for a sign that he was okay. The blue eyed boy nodded.

 

Together, they stepped off the precipice and into the water.

 

When Louis realized that he was standing on the second step with the water up to just below his knees, he smiled, looking at Harry with the most beautiful expression the younger boy had ever seen. His blue eyes were sparkling; Harry didn't know whether it was the reflection of the water intensifying their colour, or if Louis was just that beautiful. He was convinced it was the latter. Hands still clasped together tightly, Harry pulled Louis down so that they were sitting side by side on the stair.

 

The older boy, comforted by Harry's close proximity and loving gestures, completely forgot about the water and began to lose himself in the depths of Harry's beautiful green eyes. They looked familiar, though the memories were fuzzy. Suddenly, it was happening again. A string of horrible memories flashed before his eyes, rendering Louis a shaking mess of skin and bones, mind consumed by the terrors.

 

Harry noticed something was off when Louis' smile went flat, all of the light disappearing from his glowing face just as quickly as it had appeared. The blue eyed boy's body began to shake violently, spurring Harry into action. He wrapped his arms around Louis' seemingly frail body and tugged him into a standing position, guiding him carefully out of the pool.

 

"Its okay, Lou." The Cheshire boy cooed, rubbing circles on Louis' exposed back and reveling in the feel of the muscles loosening beneath his fingers. "You did so well, love. I'm so proud of you." Harry couldn't hold back the endearment and blushed quite noticeably when he realized what he had said. A questioning look appeared on Louis' face as the younger boy directed him over to the bleachers. Large hands were placed on his shoulders and he was gently forced to sit down; a large fluffy towel was then wrapped around his shivering body.

 

"I hate that you went through all the trouble to bribe me and I didn't even complete the challenge…" Louis whispered sadly, the sound of his defeated voice stabbing small daggers into Harry's heart.

 

"It wasn't about the challenge in the first place, Louis." Harry explained, sitting down next to the older boy and pulling him into a half hug. "I made you a cake because I ditched you yesterday, I just thought that maybe it'd help to have some extra incentive… And it worked! You did so well! Its just the second lesson and you're already back in the water to your knees! That’s over a foot and a half difference from just dipping your feet in the water, Lou." The younger boy praised meaningfully, he really was proud of Louis.

 

"Did you say you made me a cake?" The blue eyed boy inquired, making Harry laugh boisterously.

 

"Yes, I remember a little birdie telling me that you liked carrots, so I made you a carrot cake."  The younger boy picked up the cardboard box that was sitting beside him and showed it to Louis, opening it so that he could see the delightful confection within. "Its nothing special, but I wanted to make you something and-"

 

"Its absolutely amazing, Harry!" Louis squealed, effectively putting an end to Harry's self-deprecating speech. "But, its too big for me to eat alone…" Their eyes met and the older boy smiled softly, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "Can we share it?" He asked innocently, gaze flitting between the miniature cake and Harry's moss green eyes.

 

"Of course." Harry smiled, happy that he was becoming closer to his crush. They were friends now, maybe soon Harry could grow some balls and ask him out. He watched as Louis picked up the fork that was sitting in the box and stuck it into the cake, grabbing a bite and putting the fork up to Harry's lips.

 

"Open up." Louis giggled, carefully maneuvering the eating utensil into a series of loops and dives without letting the cake fall off, mimicking the flight pattern of an aeroplane.

 

Harry smiled softly at the older boy's antics, finally deciding to humor him and open his mouth. He chewed the delicious cake, letting the flavours seep into his palate and appease his growling stomach. Even though cake couldn't be considered a healthy lunch, he was content to sit here and eat it if it meant spending more time with Louis.

 

"Your turn." Harry spoke after he had finished his bite, taking the fork from the blue eyed boy and getting more cake. The curly haired boy's hands were shaking, so he scooted closer to Louis to make sure that the cake wouldn't fall from the fork as he tried to get it into his mouth. Louis' lips parted and his mouth opened wide, awaiting the savoury bite of food. Harry let out a quiet moan as he watched the older boy's eyes close in anticipation.

 

Feeling more nervous than he should, Harry carefully placed the small piece of cake in Louis' mouth. He smiled brightly as he watched Lou chew, occasionally letting out a moan of delight.

 

"Is it good?" Harry asked, shamelessly seeking the older boy's praise.

 

"Its orgasmic, Harry! Where did you learn to bake like this?' Louis responded happily, taking the fork from the younger boy and getting himself another bite of the frosted confection.

 

"Oh, here and there." Harry answered ambiguously, smiling as he watched Louis go back for more cake.

 

"Well, if this is my incentive, then I'll have to work harder to get more of your delicious baked goods." Louis joked, and the smile slipped from Harry's face as he realized what that meant. The sooner Louis could swim, the closer the end to their private lessons would be.

_________

 

"Niall! It was absolutely fantastic!" Louis shouted, forgetting for a moment that the Irish boy was less than three feet away from him.

 

"I bet it was, Lou." Niall smiled at his friend, thinking about how many Advil he would have to take upon his return home to rid himself of his awful headache.

 

"He's so sweet and caring, and he has the most beautiful eyes." Niall watched on, only vaguely amused, as Louis continued to gush over his swimming tutor.

 

"You know you've had classes with him before, right? Its not like you've just met him for the first time.." The younger boy remembered Harry being in their P.E. class years ago, the year that Louis fell in, but was surprised to find that the other blue eyed boy didn't.

 

"I know, it just feels like I'm meeting someone new for the first time." Louis mused, recent memories of his and Harry's swim lessons floating effortlessly through his mind. "I really like him, Niall." the older boy confessed, looking at his oldest friend for help.

 

"Then go for it." Niall stated simply, knowing that Louis would understand what he meant.


	6. Chapter 6

'HARRY!' Louis screamed as he exited the locker room after their swim lesson. He shook his wet hair messily, spraying water all over the place. Harry laughed at the older boy's childish antics, approaching him slowly so as not to get wet.

 

'Yeah?' The Cheshire boy replied, pulling his back up onto his shoulder and walking towards the exit with Louis by his side.

 

'Umm….' Lou hesitated, he wasn't entirely sure if he could go through with it, but Niall's words rang in his head. 'I was wondering… We've had fun together, right?' He mumbled awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

 

'Yeah…?'  Harry replied, honestly not knowing what Louis was getting at.

 

'Well, I was um, wondering if- umm. You'd…coffee...me?' Louis mumbled unintelligibly, but the younger boy understood.

 

'I'd love to get coffee with you, Lou.' Harry smiled, laughing to himself as Lou's face turned a deep shade of red.

 

'Um.. Okay. I'll um… Pick you up after school?'

 

'I'll see you then.' The taller boy smiled, placing a hand gently on Louis' shoulder and letting it linger longer than necessary before walking out into the crowded hallway.

 

Louis stood there, frozen. He could still feel the slight pressure of Harry's hand resting on him, the sensation searing his skin in the most wonderful of ways. He was unable to shake the feeling, even as he skipped to his next class of the day.

 

_____

 

'You ready to go, Haz?' Louis was bubbling with excitement as he stood next to Harry's locker, waiting for him to finish packing up his books.

 

'Yeah.' Harry flashed the older boy a brilliant smile, unable to contain his own happiness. 'Let's go.'

 

And with that, they were off.

 

The relatively short walk to the coffee shoppe was spent playing twenty questions, the boys asking each other random things, and finding out more about one another. As it turned out, the two shared common interests, as well as favourite colours and musicians. Louis was sure he'd both laughed and smiled more in ten minutes with Harry than he had in his entire life. He was happy he had taken Niall's advice and took the initiative to ask the curly haired boy out, rather than spending the rest of his high school days pining away at something he could've had.

 

When they arrived at the small, family owned store, Harry easily stepped into the role of gentleman as he opened the door for Louis, waiting until he had stepped into the quaint establishment before following close behind. Internally, the young man was freaking out. He really, really, really liked Louis, and he didn't want to screw anything up, especially with the fragile nature of their relationship.

 

The green eyed boy followed Louis' lead as he led him down to a secluded area of the homey café. Harry was quick to pull out the older boy's chair for him , waiting until he had sat down before seating himself.

 

'Soo….' Harry started awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands. He was so overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually out with Louis, alone… it was pretty much a date.

 

'Harry, um-' Louis tried to speak, the words catching in his throat. 'The reason I asked you for coffee was-'

 

'Good afternoon, guys! Welcome to Joe's, I'm Martha and I'll be your waitress. What can I get you?' A young girl, probably no older than himself, rudely interrupted. Harry smiled weakly, taking hold of the blue eyed boy's hand under  the table to keep him from jumping over the table and attacking their fiery haired server.

 

'I'll take a coffee, three sugars, no cream.' the younger boy answered politely, looking to Louis. 'What would you like, Lou?' Harry tried to calm him down, sending him a knowing look that prayed for patience.

 

'I'll take a tea, two sugars and one cream, Martha.' Louis answered civilly, and Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

 

'Coming right up boys, I'll be back in a jiffy!' She smiled, taking no notice of Louis' sudden sour demeanour and winking flirtatiously at Harry.

 

'Lou, what were you going to say?' Harry tried to move the conversation back to the topic at hand, but failed miserably.

 

'It doesn't matter. How were your classes today?' the blue eyed boy effectively changed the topic of conversation, content to hear Harry's smooth baritone voice make idle chatter.

 

_______

 

'Hey Greg!' Stan whispered conspiratorially from the next booth over, keeping his eyes on Harry and Louis as they chatted over their coffees. 'Are you seeing this?'

 

'What're you talking about, Stan?' Greg replied, craning his neck to follow his friend's line of vision. His gaze came to rest on two of his school mates, sitting in the corner and making conversation over what looked like tea.

 

'Don't you see them?' Stan asked angrily, hoping that Greg was smart enough to understand what he was trying to say.

 

'Umm…. I see Styles and Tomlinson having tea?' Greg answered dubiously, utterly confused as to what his friend was talking about.

 

'They're not just having tea, you tosser. They're fairies! They're on a date!' He hissed, smacking the table, not so subtly, with his hand.

 

'Well.. We can't really do anything about that, Stan…' Greg reasoned.

 

'Yes, yes we can.' Stan affirmed. 'C'mon. We've got a plan to make.' he stood, throwing a wad of bills on the table and storming from the small café. Greg, still confused as ever, followed close behind.


	7. Chapter 7

Two days later, Louis found himself sitting on the side of the pool. His legs dangled over the edge, toes submerged beneath the crystal clear water. He hummed quietly, his sweet voice bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout the pool hall.

 

His mind wandered carelessly, thoughts stuck on a loop of precious memories from earlier that week, more specifically: his coffee date with Harry.

 

They had sat there for hours, Martha politely telling them that they were going to close for the day. They had forgone their homework, dropping every aspect of reality and focusing on that single moment, the time they spent together in the secluded corner of their local coffee shoppe, the time spent making idle chatter and learning more and more about one another.

 

The sound of shuffling feet and a low murmur of angered voices snapped Louis from his thoughts, but it was too late.

 

The splash as he collided with the once placid surface was deafening, all consuming. The blue eyed boy was blinded by the darkness, completely paralysed with fear as he plummeted to the bottom of the pool.

 

And suddenly, he wasn't alone. He was standing on a boat, the eerily familiar setting sending chills down his spine.

 

'Hello?' He called out, looking around and finally deciding to go below deck. He seemed to know the layout of the ship like the back of his hand, strange.

 

'Hello?' Louis called out once more as he descended the stairs, ducking just enough to miss the doorframe. 'Is anyone down there?'

 

'Boobear, darling!' a woman shouted jovially, startling Louis. 'Dinner's ready, dear. Come on, your father wants to eat!' Cautiously, the Doncaster lad creeped into the small kitchen area, watching the scene unfold before him with a burning ache in his chest.

 

A small boy, no older than five or six, rushed past him. He entered the kitchen area and sat himself down at the adjacent table, waiting patiently for his meal. The woman walked over to him, a plate filled with delicious smelling food balanced on her arm. She placed it before him, using her other arm to pour him a cup of milk.

 

'Aweh, Maaaa,' The young boy whined, sighing exasperatedly. 'Milk again? Haven't I had enough? And plus, it's not like it has the same vitamins in it, it's powdered.' Louis laughed silently as the boy picked up the cup and brought it to his mouth, scrunching his nose in distaste as he sipped the offending beverage reluctantly.

 

'Louis Tomlinson, you will drink your milk. You're a growing boy and you need the nutrients. And yes, it is powdered, but it has the same nutrients as regular milk, too.' The smile disappeared from the blue eyed boy's face.

 

Louis Tomlinson? He thought to himself, examining the woman and the small child with more scrutiny than before. He was Louis Tomlinson… where was he? What was going on?

 

A man- a few centimetres taller than the woman, descended the ladder and seated himself next to the young Louis. He smiled at the woman, who was presumably his wife and Louis' mother- making him Louis' father, and tucked into the plate that was ever so carefully placed before him. The woman sat down, and for a while, all was well.

 

And then everything was falling.

 

From the shelves, the counters, the net of gear stationed along the ceiling of the cabin. It was all sliding towards the bow. The boat rocked and rolled, waves crashing against the lone hull and water spilling down into the galley.

 

Then Louis was shaking. Tendrils of water tugging viciously at his ankles and curling up his calves until he was pulled onto his knees, grasping in vain at every piece of furniture within his reach to keep him from being pulled under.

 

The churning waters swallowed him whole, swaddling his helpless body in a blanket of dark perverted serenity.

 

And the next thing he knows he's gasping for air and he just can't get any. His  vision  is blurred and thoughts racing with phrases words questions like: green eyes and baby tarzan and oh my god I can't swim, why am I in the water.

 

And the darkness is back and he can't breathe and he can't move and he's being pulled from the water and suddenly there's a mouth on his and hands on his chest pressing, pressing, pressing.

 

Then he's choking, air filling his lungs in a rush. His eyes open and all he sees is green, green, green, and wet curls and porcelain skin and full lips and dimples. He hears hurried steps, frantic calls for a teacher; but it's all muffled and fuzzy and everything is rushing by in a blur because the boy with the eyes so green and the lips so full and the skin so perfect is smiling- and it takes his breath away.

 

Then those sensuous full lips are moving, pink tongue pulling out consonant sounds against pearly white teeth and mouth forming a perfect 'o' and then those lips are stretched against those teeth so white that they're almost blinding and he thinks he needs sunglasses to look at the boy another second and then he hears it.

 

Louis.

 

Its his name. Its his name and he knows it well. Its his name and he knows it well, but he's not paying any attention because he's too caught up in the eyes and the hair and the lips and the skin and all he wants to do is touch, touch, touch.

 

Louis.

 

There it is again. His vision is clearing up, the fog in his mind receding and allowing him to focus. He can see and his vision is filled with the same green, the same wet curls, the same full lips, the same dimples, and the same porcelain skin. Its all the same but it's all so different. The eyes are worried, he can see it now- the green dark and swirling and he finds himself getting lost. The curls are wet and dark chocolate, same as before- but they're longer, more unruly, he realizes. The lips are full, cherry red and glistening with small droplets of water, just as he remembers, but instead of being pulled over pearly white teeth so blinding they rival the sun- they're pulled tight and pressed together in a concerned frown, dimples following suit. And that skin, once unblemished and so pale and white and perfect, was the same; there was more colour in it, as if someone had put him in the oven like a cookie and baked until he was a light golden brown around the edges, just like recipe said.

 

Louis

 

The name rolled off of the tongue, and he was spellbound as he watched the lips curve out the sounds and the sight was oh so familiar.

 

'Louis'

 


	8. Chapter 8

'Did you see his face?' Stan laughed, walking next to Greg as they exited the pool hall. The sound of a thrashing Louis hitting the water ringing in their ears, the high of doing something completely outrageous and stupid and potentially dangerous yet thrilling at the same time coursing through their veins and pumping their hearts filled with adrenaline and hate, hate, hate.

 

Because that's what they were.

 

They were walking bags of hate. They were angry at the world, angry that they couldn't have what everyone else did, angry because they wanted something that they could never get, that Tomlinson and Styles had that they wouldn't ever had: someone to love. Or, at least Stan was angry- he didn't know about Greg. Greg never really felt anything at all, too mysterious and vague and completely lost in the fucking haze of fake stupidity that surrounded him for the sake of appearance.

 

Greg was nice, smart, kind, funny- to be honest he was perfect. But he and Stan had been friends since they were rolling around in diapers and throwing bowls filled with baby food from their high chairs to see who could make the bigger mess. So where Stan went, so did Greg, and when Stan got lost in the sea of growing up and having feelings and being alone, Greg sucked in a breath and waded in after him.

 

Stan, well- Stan was blind. Not literally, of course. But he always felt alone- too blind to see the boy who has been following him around for years, the boy who bends and breaks and moulds to whatever Stan wants, the boy who has been right by his side through the abandonment and the divorce and the breakups and the highs and the lows and the weed and the booze and the hookers and the cliques and the shitty grades and the fist fights and the bar crawls and the lonely nights spent in the park, drunk and talking philosophy and anthropology on the swings as they toss empty bottles of vodka as far as they can in their inebriated state for straight-laced suburban mothers to find with their children hours later when the sun came out to play.

 

And in that moment, their high comes crashing down because they go crashing into the one person they were trying to avoid.

 

Harry Styles.

 

They stop, their laughter stops, and they stop breathing. All is silent.

 

And then Harry hears it, and he's screaming and yelling and pushing them out of the way and running and trying to pull of his shoes without falling over and then he's diving into the pool.

 

All they can do is hold their breath, too scared and paralyzed and absolutely fucking terrified because scared is too tame a word to describe how they feel after seeing the frantic crazed worried absolutely in love look in Harry's forest green eyes as he's screaming Louis' name and diving into the pool fully-clothed.

 

And that sound breaks their heart.

 

The sound of Harry crying- gasping between breaths as he tries to give Louis mouth to mouth and revive him, of Harry's broken sobs and frantic shouts of Louis' name as he pounds on his chest, hissing the counts. One two three four five six seven eight nine ten.

 

And it goes on and on and one until he hits thirty and then he's sucking in air again and pressing his mouth to the blue eyed boy's and holding his nose and tipping his chin back to open his airways and then he's breathing.

 

Breathing life back into Louis because he needs him, because Harry is oh so lost without him and everything is falling apart and he can't help but think that its happening again and he doesn't understand why they just didn't stop after the first time because their positions are so familiar and all Harry can think about is the moment when Louis opens his eyes and smiles at him.

 

But that's not happening because Harry's too hoarse from screaming to call for help and he's immersing himself in the methodical repetition of thirty compressions and two breaths, concentrating on Louis, Louis, Louis  and praying that he'll just breathe, breathe, breathe because he can't take it anymore, he can't stand being this in love and this lonely when everything he wants is lying out before him  not breathing and he's trying as hard as he can to fix it but he just can't because nothing is like before: everything is different.

 

Harry isn't nine and Louis isn't ten.

 

They're not surrounded by frantic children screaming because they think someone is dying.

 

Harry isn't sure of himself, his cockiness is gone. Louis isn't oblivious to how he feels about Harry.

 

Everything is different, yet so eerily comfortable and the same.

 

There's silence for a moment, and everything is still like the world is holding it's breath and waiting for the right moment to exhale.

 

And then Louis is choking and gasping and his eyes are so wide and innocent and blue like deep pools of azure sea water in the Caribbean and Harry is chanting his name, whispering it softly into the air like a prayer. He rolls Louis on to his side and helps him clear the water from his lungs and he doesn't stop saying his name: Louis, Louis, Louis. He's pulling the older lad's body to his own, sitting him up and wrapping his arms around his shivering frame and rubbing reassuring circles on his back with his thumb and he still doesn't stop because all he can think about is: Louis, Louis, Louis.

 

Louis is crying, Harry is sobbing, and they're clinging to one another like they're the only people in the world and nothing else matters and all they need is love and everything is perfect.

 

Harry pulls away, touch lingering on Louis' chilled skin, and a smile graces is full cherry lips and his dimples make an appearance. And then he's laughing. Laughing and sobbing and shaking and crying and choking on air as he thinks of the ridiculousness of it all. He smiles, big and wide and toothy. And he relaxes because Louis is safe and Louis is his and they're in love.

 

Louis spits out a mouthful of chlorinated pool water and stares, looking at Harry with speculative eyes and an unreadable expression.

 

Harry stares back, eyes so light and happy and absolutely care free despite the fact that he just saved the love of his life for the second time.

 

'Is our entire relationship going to revolve around me saving you?' he asks playfully, and Louis shoves his shoulder before freezing.

 

And that's when Harry realizes that he's said too much.

 


	9. Chapter 9

'Harry' Louis whimpers, muscles taught under tanned skin. 'what do you mean?'

 

'I… uh..' Harry stumbles over his words, running a hand through his damp curls and muttering fuck, fuck, fuck under his breath because it was all perfect and now it's gone to shit because Louis knows now. He knows. He didn't know before but now that it's out in the open it's almost as if it's suffocating them.

 

'Harry.' the blue eyed boy repeats his name and his whisper is so broken, so barely there that it's all Harry can take and he's coming apart piece by piece. The tears are back and he's choking on his words and trying to figure a way out of this mess and all he can do is think: what if I lose him, what if this is it?

 

'Louis, let me explain.' he breathed out, looking Louis in the eye briefly and watching as he nodded, signalling that he had permission. Slowly, he turned to face away from the older boy and tugged his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and squeezing tightly. He took a deep breath, Louis' name poised on the tip of his tongue, completely ready to be accompanied by platitudes and apologies and countless it's nothing's and it's all Harry can do not to give up.

 

'I can't do this if I'm looking at you.' he settles for the words, the truth feeling foreign in his mouth. He's gotten so used to just omitting it. Not outright lying, not hiding, just not telling the truth. This is what it feels like, honesty, openness, love. It's then that he realizes that they're still in the pool hall, sitting at the edge of the man made swimming hole completely drenched and still in their soaked clothes. Harry shakes it off. If he doesn't continue, he might not get another chance.

 

'I love you.' He started, blurting out the words. They felt like home, the intangible syllables muttered into space smelling of vanilla and honeysuckle and fresh cut grass and clean clothes and vacuumed floors and sex and mint toothpaste. 'Since year six.'

 

The words churned in Louis' mind: I love you and since year six. Flashes of stunning emerald greens, wet curly hair, porcelain skin, full lips, and dimples, dimples, dimples whizzing around his mind so fast it made his head spin and his stomach lurch. It was all coming together. That's why Harry was so familiar, that explained the flash back, why Harry was so eager to help Louis learn how to swim again. He was there the first time. Harry saved him.

 

'You saved me.' Louis didn't phrase it as a question, letting his words hang heavy in the air as his stare bore holes into Harry's expansive back.

 

'I did.' It's a straightforward answer. They've already wasted so much time dancing around how they felt. 'Let me finish.'

 

Louis closed his mouth, witty retort and accusing questions dying before they even passed his lips.

 

'I love you.' Harry repeated, this time continuing on, 'I love you more than the moon and stars and the sun that shines brightly in the sky. I love you more than rain and thunder and lightning. I love you more than snow and hail, more than mudslides and floods and monsoons and droughts and hurricanes and dust storms and tornadoes. I love you more than a flower blossoming from the soil, more than a doe nursing her baby. I love you more than all the things in life, and I'd give them all up if it meant I could be with you.'

 

And this time, Louis is so lost in Harry's confession that he doesn't notice that the younger boy has turned around. He doesn't notice the way their lips collide, fitting together perfectly in a heated kiss. He doesn't notice that he forgot to close his eyes, or that Harry's are still open as well. It's only when Louis catches Harry's gaze that it all clicks.

 

And then Louis is swimming. It isn't perfect, his strokes are uneven and unsure, feeble and clumsy like a toddler, but it's coming back to him and that's what matters. The current is strong and he feels like he's getting swept out to sea but that's okay, because he's swimming, locked on, completely and utterly oblivious to anything other than harry and curls and the sweet scent of mangoes and chlorine as he struggles to stay afloat. He's swimming, swimming, swimming and getting lost and all he can think about is how it'd be completely okay for him to drown right here because he's just swimming in the depths of Harry's eyes and everything is perfect.


End file.
